


when they're under your skin

by Elizabeth (anghraine)



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Fusion, Gen, Mentors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2018-12-26 00:32:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12047571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anghraine/pseuds/Elizabeth
Summary: The last Avatar was murdered as a child, leaving Korra under the guidance of his notorious predecessor, Anakin Skywalker of the Fire Nation.For a certain value of "guidance."





	when they're under your skin

**Author's Note:**

> An anon prompted Jedi!Korra + Skywalkers, and with some compression of timelines, it became ... this.

Korra was lucky, in a way.   
  
A number of waterbenders had survived the Empire of Flames, trying to adapt to the new state of things, or slipping away and escaping north—giving up, she thought, with an angry twist of her mouth. But in the end, the nice compliant waterbenders had been starved in Imperial prisons, except for Master Katara, and that only thanks to her mother’s sacrifice. Those who fled, though, had been free and powerful when Katara found them, ready to face the Empire, ready to win. And they had. Five years after the Empire’s fall, Katara was leading the Southern waterbenders home; four years after that, she gladly began Korra’s training.  
  
The earthbenders were much the same. Some died in futile battles, of course, but many chose, instead, to bide their time, waiting until the right moment to strike. The sandbenders withdrew to the desert, and helped other earthbenders survive there. They, too, emerged to help crush the Empire, in the end. At ten, Korra had her pick from a small army of earthbenders.   
  
She felt a decided tug in the direction of Master Katara’s friend, the metalbender.  
  
“I’m sure she’s too busy,” Korra muttered. She chewed absently on a nail. “And I don’t like Lin.”  
  
The last surviving airbender, a boy of five—who almost certainly would have been the Avatar before her—had been captured and murdered by Imperial holdovers. Korra wasn’t even sure if he counted as an Avatar. Master Katara had warned her that, if she ever did manage to get advice from a past life, it would not be from Aang. She didn’t say that it would be Anakin, Aang’s mostly disastrous predecessor, but she didn’t have to.  
  
Anakin had yet to speak to Korra, either out of shame on his part, or spiritual failure on hers. Still, the waves of supreme indifference beating at her mind were unmistakable.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Master Toph was terrifying and harsh and brilliant, and Korra loved her years with her. Earthbending, too, made sense to her in a way that water never had; she felt the strength and stubbornness in the earth she bent, understood it.   
  
“Still no air?” she asked one day, listening to Korra switch between water and earth, then back again. Master Katara watched, her blue eyes sharp but calm.  
  
Korra let her boulder crash to the ground, shoulders slumping. “No.”  
  
“You’ll get it eventually,” Katara assured her. “Of course you don’t have it yet, with no training.”  
  
Korra brightened, a little. “Yeah. But still—” She punched a small burst of flames into the air. “I haven’t had training in that, either.”  
  
A few months later, they told her that they’d found her next master. They said he was a Jedi, like Katara, and probably the most powerful bender alive; that was enough for Korra. Still, it never occurred to her that they might mean Master Skywalker, even as Katara (and a visibly uncomfortable Toph) flew her up to the soaring Jedi Temple, pale and brilliant in the winter sunshine.   
  
Korra did her best not to look too obviously overwhelmed, and though she’d never been clumsy, concentrated on not breaking anything. And when Katara and Toph introduced her to the new teacher, Korra’s mouth dropped right open.   
  
Despite his name, Li Skywalker was not an airbender. He and his twin sister, Councilwoman Lai, were two of the last firebenders: children of Avatar Anakin and a long-dead Southern chieftainess. Korra had never met Lai, but she’d seen photographs in the newspaper, and she would have thought her one of the Water Tribe representatives, if not for her Fire Nation robes. Master Skywalker, though, was wholly and unmistakably Anakin’s son, with his pale brown hair falling untidily over bright eyes, and still more, a sort of restless intensity at the edges of his proper Jedi calm. And he had saved the world.  
  
“It’s an honour, Avatar Korra,” he said, his gold eyes unreadable.   
  
Korra grinned. “Thanks! You’re going to be my teacher? That’s great!”   
  
Even as his polite smile warmed, she felt a disorienting rush of emotions—her own delight at learning from the man who had defeated the Emperor, and then a distant, twisting anxiety mixed with pride, and then an oddly childish calm. A tall, brown-haired man, one hand over his face, swam before her vision. A little boy with cheerful grey eyes took the man’s other hand, saying something that Korra couldn’t hear, before pointing straight at her.  
  
“Korra!”  
  
Somebody directed a swift, painful jab to her ribs. Korra’s eyes cleared. Master Skywalker and Master Katara were peering at her anxiously.  
  
“You’re sure she—”   
  
“Absolutely.”  
  
Toph jabbed her again.  
  
“Ouch! Stop, I’m fine. I just saw this little boy and a …”  
  
 _Aang?_  She felt rather than saw his pleased nod. And that meant—  
  
“I’m fine,” she said again, and smiled, a bit sheepishly, at Master Skywalker. “I think your dad just wanted to see you.”


End file.
